Smut with a Story
by captainbobbin
Summary: A Medic has kept a piece of him hidden all his life on fear of death. When his Heavy begins to question him and search for company, the barriers break down. Sex scene, Heavy/Medic with Heavy topping.


He wasn't unhappy.

It wasn't that he was timid either, but the years taken growing up in Germany made clear of what happens if you took an inclination to liking men.

Electrocution 'therapy', being dumped between scorching hot baths and tubs of water that was solidly ice, being forced to watch the terrible things other innocent men and women had to go through, the entirety the Medic had seen. The Medic had seen and experienced all.

Before the start of his college work he had been faced with the likes of conservative religion followers and Nazis alike, being told, _forced _to change the way they assumed he was.

The Medic kept himself at bay, hiding his true self. It was not like he was some lip-wristed out-there boy looking for the appeal in every man, oh no. The doctor, under the intense and watchful eyes of the possessive people of his past, kept himself hidden and silent, unaware. He blocked off his memories of childhood, adolescence and the want for flesh, busying his mind with his work, war and teammates.

Their training and 'cures' had worked upon him, making him almost blind to the men around him. True, none knew of his past nor even his name, and true the men were all pleasant and often good friends and comrades towards him, but if the Medic thought hard about it, and really hard at that, he would realize that none of them were like him.

They seemed to be true men – running into battle without fear or need for safety, none needed to so pristinely sort their hair or doubly, triply check their glasses and facial appearance, smooth down their coats, fiddle with their ties, none held their hands on their hips when leaning or cooked, cleaned and took delicate care like the doctor.

But the others just put it down to the fact that he was German, educated differently, and at the most, effeminate.

He was a doctor after all, and the surgeon touched, felt, controlled and aided the work of the human body everyday – he would have to have a somewhat gentle nature and soft heart at times.

He was no coward, mind you, no matter what the physician thought.

To the doctor, he though himself a weak man. In a never ending battle, he was not the one running into danger, grabbing the secret briefcases or dealing immense amounts of damage. He was not one of the team who killed many men per day, several times over, or tore people apart with a single knife or strategic bullet. He did not distract others attention to save others, nor was he able to take down a giant of a man from the other side with ease.

He hid behind a colossal Russian meat shield and merely stopped him from dying.

It sounded a pitiful, minor job. But he supposed someone had to do it.

He had blocked his mind off. He was no longer a homosexual who longed for the touch of another, commitment, relationships or a typhoon romance; he was just the quiet little Medic, who hid from enemies and kept to himself until needed. The man who took the most care of others but next to no care of himself at times.

His violin, kept in immaculacy, lay to his side among the scattered papers, implements and tools, valves, needles, bottles and boxes of chemicals and medicines, and the doctor realised his working area needed a spruce of sorts.

With both gloved hands he smoothed down his hair, rescanning his notes with a calm expression of thought, his hair annoyingly out of place and latex glove creaking slightly. His workspace was a mess over his desk, yet he knew where everything was.

On the cot behind him lay the very meat shield he daily healed and took care of, the Heavy. The older man glanced over at the overworked German and sighed, sitting up on the gurney.

"You do not look happy?" He questioned, a slight frown creasing his forehead.

"No no, I'm fine." The other spoke softly, eyes scanning a worksheet and mussing up the right side of his hair in thought. " . . . Just . . . need to get zhis done."

"Vhat is it?"

The Medic stretched back in his old chair and yawned, squeezing his eyes shut.

"Just some old papervurk I forgot to do, kamerade."

The doctor stood and nudged his chair back under his desk, standing with his back to the taller mercenary as he at least attempted to sort his desk, weight shifted on one side, hips tilted just slightly.

The Russian tilted his head in silence, watching.

He enjoyed viewing the man at work, taking heed of all the short males mannerisms and habits – the messing up and smoothing down of his hair, the finicky way he fidgeted with his gloves, the way he always arched his back almost exaggeratingly when he needed to yawn, everything. Unlike the Germans unknown past, the Heavy artillery man had no problems with who he was. In his somewhat younger days he dappled with both men and women in his own time, the subject less taboo and less scorned in his country and city. He was curious, curious about the doctor whose trust he held, curious of his reaction if he began to ask of more personal details, curious upon his preferences. . .

On a close inspection the younger certainly had one or two attributes and characteristics of the young men he'd met and taken back home, but there was certainly something particular about his Doktor.

Perhaps it was the sheer amount of trust and camaraderie, the fact that they genuinely had similar outlooks and opinions, or maybe it was the fact that he wasn't throwing himself at the larger man. Before, back home when a man wanted him, the Heavy would know it and it would have been made clear, but his little German just . . . was an enigma. Did he like him, want him, need him, didn't he? It was all a guessing game until one of them decided to find out.

Watching the doctors back move as he organized, the Heavy took action, slowly sliding from the gurney and silently coming behind him, wrapping his arms around the slim hips that were tilted at a feminine angle. The Medic yelped slightly, not expecting the sudden physical contact, and tilted his head to look up at the taller man, holding his unfinished worksheet.

"Vhat . . . .vhat are you doing?"

The Heavy gave a slight chuckle, resting his arms around the firm hips and his head on the others. "Just vanted to see dis work of yours."

The brunette remained still, besides lifting the sheet slightly, and the taller of the two moved to rest his chin on the slim shoulder, and he smiled. With a slight swallow, the younger of the two watched the others eyes scan the page of notes and details, noticed the quirk of the edge of his mouth and the slight squeeze he gave, pulling his hips closer into his body, and the doctor swallowed again.

The Russian tilted his head once done and looked at the man he was pulling against him, deep eyes scanning his face like he had done the page.

" . . . " The smile got wider. ". . . You did well today, Doktor."

Medics lips quirked in return and he made himself look away, back to his sheet of work, ignoring the interested eyes on his cheek, neck, dodging beneath his collar and wandering beneath. " . . . I just did vhat I alvays do. . . "

"You alvays do well then." A soft chuckle rumbled into his ear and a thumb lazily drew tiny shapes on his hips, catching the edge of his belt, tracing the pattern on his lower waistcoat, pushing beneath to feel the fabric of his shirt.

"Just . . . a good day, I suppose. . ." Gott verdammt, the German swallowed again, hiding the fact he was gritting his molars and bicuspids together. The Heavy was just being friendly is all . . . . just being friendly. They were friends after all.

Friends or more, the Russian could sense the medical professionals somewhat discomfort, and knew it was either because he did not know how to respond, or he liked it. If it was neither of those options, the Russian would have been kicked out the infirmary and had at least three syringes of the needle gun variety in his backside by now.

But he was not pushed away, nor scorned nor rejected, just unable to be handled just yet, and the smile grew.

"Is it still a good day?" Another small chuckle passed the soft shell of his ear and the doctors body gave a full out shiver, vibrating the back and travelling into the broad man behind him. The doctor then tilted his head back again, somewhat wide eyed, a hidden, smothered sensation rising in his gut of guilt, and fear, and disgust. And curiosity.

What really was going on? What was the others intentions?

A spark flared in the others eyes and the Heavy noticed. Some thing was merging, changing, scared. Something deeply hidden and lost was being uncovered and smacking the forefront of the doctors mind.

He had been outed.

Someone knew what he was.

Another deep swallow, his eyes transfixed on the Russian.

What if he was one of them, one of the people of his past? An extremist. Come to change him again, or if it was too late, _terminate _him? Get him off the team if not worse? Kill him? Attempt to use their 'cures' upon him again, the baths of hot scalding water then being yanked out and forced against ice, the electrocution, the somewhat weak acids and solvents used, manipulation of his limbs and other extremities, what if he truly knew his past and had improved their ways of changing his mind? What if it was a Spy, if not an enemy BLU? A Nazi follower or a religious extremist or a member of a homophobic group finally having exposed him and now cornering him, leaving him helpless and unexpecting, unarmed and -

Discomfort was something the Russian knew well and could sense a mile away. He was a large man all around and with a strong personality and overwhelming presence, and he could tell that his actions had released a waterfall of doubt and fear into the Germans head, memories flooding his brain and spilling over the floodplains of logic. Heavy, unable to comprehend what sort of agony the physicians head was going through, did what he knew best to relax others, and squeezed the shoulders gently before leaning down and gently taking his lips in his own, relinquishing the shorter torsos hold when the shorter male shuddered uncontrollably.

The Medics fists clenched and creaked in the tight gloves, shoulders shivering at the new and foreign contact, but as soon as it had came it went, and the bald weapons expert pulled away just slightly, still close enough to steal his breath. It was the Heavy that swallowed this time, swallowed the doctor's taste and scent and presence, less than an inch from his face, close enough to tilt his head just a touch, catching their noses together and nuzzling him affectionately, willing him to stay calm, to stop thinking and just melt against him.

The doctor's eyes slid shut, his breathing heavy and his back shivering just a little, finger twitching. Whether they were twitching for his nearest weapon or to tug at the taller mans shirt and hands he did not know.

Opening his eyes, he forced himself to look into the others eyes; mind wiped blank, yet still going haywire.

" Vhy . . . .vhy?"

A slight sigh through the Heavy's crooked nose, a frown tugging his lips before he gave the slightest of shrugs. " . . . .Why not?"

The Medics jaw opened to speak yet no words spilled forth.

'Why not?' did he say? 'Why not'?

". . . because . . . . . I'm not. . . .Und it's . . . ." The last word was little more than a squeak as the arms returned around his waist and gently pulled back. ". . . wrong."

"You really zhink that?"

The taller frowned as his eyes scanned the physicians, noting the deeply set and troubled twitches of his iris, the murky shadows of doubt shifting in his mind and blocking his train of thought.

"You really believe that . . . this is wrong? It's wrong for me to have an interest in you, in my friend and Doktor?"

"But . . ." The Medic sighed and swallowed, hesitantly and gently leaning back into the strong hold of his friend. "We're both men . . . Are you-" His voice caught in his throat as the intimating Russians eyes narrowed, just a fraction. The Russian noted this and inclined his head slightly, looking down at his Doktor.

" . . .You tink I vould hurt you?"

The shivering returned tenfold, the slight glare and height of his battle partner forcing a sweat to gather on the back of the threatened surgeons neck.

"No, but, I-, well. . . Ozhers have, sort of." His eyes flicked away entirely and he attempted to pull out of the warm grip of the other, but the Heavy pulled him back, slotting the slim back against his chest yet again.

"Would _I_ though? To you, of all people?"

"No . . .You vouldn't." with some indecision and doubtful thoughts the trim Medic looked back up at him, frowning. "You could but you vouldn't."

"I couldn't at all. Vhy vould I hurt you, моя любовь?"

Unknowing at the Russian language, the Medic could only look up with a minor frown at what now seemed to be more that his battle partner, needing to know what to do, needing guidance and foresight.

". . . .You're truly scared, aren't you?"

A soft smile and a melodic yet nervous chuckle. " I zhink right now I vould be more comfortable vizh zhe BLU Heavy here vizh his hands around my throat zhan you here and yours around my vaist. I just honestly don't know how to react to zhis. . .to _you._"

"Don't react then." The bald man shrugged like it was simple. "Just enjoy. Life is short, da? And you looked stressed and lonely and it upsets me, to see you alone and without me."

He chuckled kindly and straight into the smaller mans ear but it was without malice, and the doctor felt a light kiss left on the crook of his neck and the gentle yet strong arms around him tighten, pulling him closer against the larger man.

A slight noise passed the physicians soft lips, and with no where safe to leave his hands, he shakily laid them on the edge of his desk, pushing his papers aside. With a low purr, the broader man felt the Medic relax and began to gently use his thumbs again, brushing the pad of the digit against the leather of his belt, silk of his waist coat, feeling the shirt tucked into his belt, tempted to press beneath and search – but he'd moved so quick already, surely he shouldn't spook the doctor more so soon. He merely left a few trailing little kisses in the crook of his partner's neck, tasting his pulse beneath his flushed skin.

The Medics eyes fluttered shut, muscles tense but he forced them to relax. He had to; he had to realize he wasn't in danger, he wasn't going to get hurt, there was no need to be in such a fight or flight stance. He let out a low breath, and after some indecision, tilted his neck to the other, exposing his flesh, his weak point, his trust.

The Heavy, delighted in the reaction, did not disappoint and took to the flesh, finding a soft place of his friends flesh and kissed at it, a purr marking the back of his throat and spilling forth, vibrating and tickling the doctors' soft skin. Gently slotting his thumb beneath the doctors' shirt, the Russian stroked at the pale skin of the firm hip and side beneath, pulling the man closer as he worked at his neck, leaving a dark flush lovebite as evidence.

The larger took a step forward, pushing the Medic and causing him to press against the desk, bending just slightly enough to allow their hips to press together a little more, a little closer.

The physician let out a slight hiss as teeth gently tugged at his ear, and he glanced back, giving half a shaky smile.

"Vhat . . .vhat vould you like me to do?" pale cheeks flushed darkly, and the Heavy smiled wider, especially as the Medic added on "Lieber?"

"I want you to relax, and let me look after you for once, da?"

Medic couldn't help but look away slightly. Not that he didn't want this, as much as his mind screamed at him that he didn't, but it wasn't a position he was used to being in, mentally or physically. He was the one who looked after people, not the other way around, and the thought someone wanted to do this for him, and a male nonetheless. . .it made his mind stall and stutter.

"I . . .can try?" He sounded unsure with his decision, the years of being told what he could and couldn't be weighing down on him heavily. And it wasn't that he didn't trust the Heavy; in fact out of everyone he trusted the Heavy the most, but it was still...hard.

The smile on the others face grew wider before the grip on the doctors waist tightened and suddenly lifted him off the ground, the Russian picking the slimmer man up with ease and hefting him onto a broad shoulder, ignoring the squeaks and squirms.

"Heavy!" He panicked slightly, despite knowing the other man wouldn't hurt him, "P-put me down! This instant!" He squirmed against the broader man, trying to free himself of his grip, but he knew it was futile. He let out a low whine as he went slack against him, body quivering in fear and anticipation as his hands twitched at the memories. No, he had to push past them, especially now. He gritted his teeth and sighed. "Where are we going?"

"Well, where do you think?" The older of them chuckled, tilting his head just slightly to catch the doctor's side with affection intended.

"Your room is always so busy, too many peoples running in and out, mine is better for this. They know not to bother me of all people." The hand keeping the brunette in place squeezed just enough to be felt, reassuring that the doctor was in safe hands.

"Y-Your room?" The doctor started, stomach clenching with nerves. No, no this was too much. He squirmed in Heavy's grip, "Heavy let me go! Please!" He protested in what he hoped was not in vain. The doctor kicked and out jolted, nerves on end and hands digging into the shoulder keeping him in place, and luckily the weapon expert got the message – but did not drop him, more like held him off the ground at arms length by slotting his broad hands under the medics armpits.

"What's the matter with you?"

Medic calmed as he was allowed down, even if he wasn't directly standing. "I just. . ." he let out a long breath, ". . .need to know what this is? I mean. . ." he wanted to tell the Heavy Weapons expert, he really did, but that part of his life was for him and him only. How could he tell someone so close such evil things? "I'm just . . . not used to this. Any of this. I want it but was brought up . . . trained not to want it . . ."

He tried to make it sound as general as possible, explaining himself without giving too much away.

An eyebrow rose somewhat, the physically stronger of the two disallowing his Doktor to get down. Gears were turning in both heads and Heavy could practically see the ones in the Medics mind going haywire and frying.

"So you're straight?" A half frown appeared, but almost seemed like an expression of being misled and cheated.

"No! No I mean . . . ugh." He ran a hand over his face. "I want this, I want what you want to give me, but I was always. . ." he bit back his tongue from letting too much slip ". . . made to think it was wrong, that it is a sin, against nature." He let his head drop slightly, "as much as I want it. . .I can't just stop remembering things."

"That's why you have me." Heavy pulled Medic closer and hugged him tightly, leaving a gentle kiss in his hair. "I can help you forget. You alvays did think too much."

He couldn't help but smile at the compliment, a chuckle leaving his throat. "I am a doctor; it is my job to always be thinking." He said somewhat dryly, burying his face into the taller man's chest inhaling his scent. It wasn't perfect, and he knew it would be a long time before he could fully push past it, but for now, he had Heavy. And if that wasn't help enough for him, he knew he would never get over the past. A purr rumbled through the broader chest the Medic leant on, followed by a chuckle. "Too much thinking. Never enough time to relax, Doktor." Lifting him again, the Heavy shook his head, making sure the physician was secure in his hold.

This time at least the Medic was calmer about being carried, although that tight knot of anticipation in his stomach remained. "So . . .," he couldn't help but sound nervous as he readjusted his glasses where they had slipped down his nose, "What . . . are you thinking of doing?"

The smirk plastered to the Russians face deepened considerably before being hidden enough to disguise his thoughts, and Heavy chuckled as he glanced at the doctor from the corner of his eyes. "Whatever makes you relax, and happy." The arm not supporting him briefly moved to stroke down his spine. "Whatever keeps you calm."

A nervous chuckle escaped the Medics lips. "Then we may be here a while, comrade. I have not been truly relaxed in many years."

"All the time in the world for you." Another slight rumble through the Russians being before they reached his door, and Heavy kept his grip on the surgeon as he unlocked it.

Medic had never been in Heavy's room; as he had said earlier, most people knew better than to enter his lair, and whenever the bigger man had a problem he had always gone to the medibay. Besides, he was always too swamped in paperwork for him to go visiting. He looked over his shoulder in curiosity as the door was unlocked wondering what lay ahead of him. Despite one or two scattered oily rags for gun cleaning and a few bed covers out of place, the room was tidy and everything had its place, especially around the westerly wall of firearms the man kept in pristine condition for war. What could he say? The Medic had a place for all his instruments, so did the Heavy. He was surprised to say the least; not that Medic would ever think Heavy was the type of person to be messy, but he wasn't expecting the other man to be as immaculate as himself. It was a nice show of his personality to say the least.

"I like your room." He said dumbly, not really sure what to say or do by this point,

Heavy beamed "Thank you." And sat the smaller down on the bed, gently running a hand through his hair.

"Although, have not cleaned through since last night, still a bit messy from looking after Sascha."

"It's not like my quarters were much better." he chuckled, slightly annoyed that his paperwork had been out of place, considering how particular he could be with the way his desk was organised. He allowed himself to ay back on the bed, surprised at how comfortable it was compared to his own, and how big too! Then again, there was more of Heavy than there was of him, so it wasn't much of a surprise.

At feeling eyes move over him the Medic glanced up and watched as the larger man quietly moved down the side of the bed, lightly tossing the 'mess' out the way of his and the Doktors projected path, before sitting on the edge of the bed next to the Medics face. Without hesitance, the Heavy let a hand run through the thick hair of the other, smiling slightly.

He couldn't help but push his head against the Heavy's hand like some sort of cat but just the feeling of the thick fingers stroking through his hair was wonderful. He lightly purred, feeling his body go even slacker. He dared to even think he was enjoying himself, even if the dark recesses of his mind whispered how wrong and disgusting it all was.

When the others weight shifted slightly on the bed the Medics eyes opened, watching as the other leant forward just enough to let his other hand trace against the Medics creamy throat. The doctor swallowed and tensed, a memory flickering of others hands around his neck, of breathing being restricted.

Very gently, Heavy leaned over and traced where he had touched with his mouth, tenderly kissing him there when he felt him tense. "Everything is...okay, Doktor?" He smiled slightly, gently lapping up his jaw line to nuzzle the soft flesh between the ear and jaw hinge.

"Ja." The slight squeak came out before the jaw clenched shut, muscles spasming slightly under the fear of an incoming bite or squeeze or any form of pain or restriction. "I'm okay."

"Shhhh." Heavy moved his hand from his hair gently stroked over the other side of his neck, ghosting fingertips over tender flesh. With his mouth he gently lapped at the same place on the other side, showing no intention of pain would be brought upon the medic. "Relax Doktor. Will not hurt you here." he moved his head to his throat, merely nuzzling it affectionately. It was obvious the Medic was jumpy when it came to his neck; all he needed to do was show he could give the area love and attention without him having to worry.

The doctor's eyelids fluttered and threatened to close but he forced them to stay open. His neck was sensitive with invisible scars, sensitive enough to remember each infliction and bruise while sensitive enough to appreciate the soft touch, the gentle lips. He swallowed, letting the inner beast be stomped in the head and let his eyes closer, tilting his head to expose more. Heavy took that as incentive to continue his administrations, very gently nipping at the younger man's neck, not hard enough to leave any sort of bruising or to cause any pain, but enough to be felt. If anything, he wanted to test how far the medic would be able to go before he wanted to stop; at least then they would both know the boundaries they were treading here.

A slight gasp and whine passed through the shorter mans teeth, forcing the memories back long enough to let his nerves do the feeling, not his brain; letting the slight jolt trace down his spine and a tiny purr to erupt from him, shivers dripping off of him. Knowing that had been a push too far, Heavy moved from his neck. "Is okay doktor. Vill not hurt you." He crooned, leaning down to kiss the man on the lips chastely. As much as he wanted to do more with the man, he knew this would be the time to go slowly, work the medic up to wanting it rather than forcing it down his throat, literally and metaphorically.

Appreciating the lips on his own rather than his throat, the Medic gently pushed up to meet him, unable to allow his mind to make his body do much else besides subconsciously making him twitch, in several places.

Heavy couldn't help but smile against his lips, feeling a slight bump against his leg from between the Medics, but still, he could make him wait. He pushed himself up to be hovering over the other man. "May I?" He moved a hand to the doctor's shirt, toying with the top button on his shirt.

The Medic gave a slight nod, tilting his neck enough to give the larger man access, letting his trust and knowledge take the wheel, as it were.

Deftly, the Heavy undid the buttons on the man's shirt, wasting no time in licking, kissing and sucking at his now exposed flesh. From his nipples to his abdomen, Heavy's tongue lapped out small circles and intricate patterns over his skin, not once breaking contact a he explored every line of the other man's body.

A throaty groan tore itself from the smaller mans throat, fingers twisting matching shapes in the bed sheets. Why had they all said that this was wrong, that it should not be allowed? It should always be allowed, it was like nothing the German, as a doctor, could ever comprehend of feeling.

"You are relaxed yet doktor?" The voice was almost teasing, but the genuine tone was still there regardless. His fingers gently stroked up the right hand side of his ribcage as Heavy removed his mouth from the German's body, watching him.

The physician looked up and felt his cheek flush a darker shade of red, biting back the whine in his voice as he let out a slight "Don't mock me.", putting on his best offended face and trying not to get distracted by the wandering hand.

Heavy chuckled deeply, the laugh coming out as a half growl as his hand travelled lower, brushing over the Medic's hip to the inside of his thigh, carefully avoiding the arousal that had come to be inside the Medic's pants. "Sorry. . .did not mean to offend." At that point the whine building up was allowed to be free and the doctor's voice shifted pitch as he let out a slight noise of desperation.

" . . . g . . . gut. You better not, or. . . ." The threat died on his lips as his hips arched subconsciously. "Or I von't heal you anymore."

"Mmm. . .I vill remember that doktor." he smirked slightly, hand moving to lay across his crotch, gently applying pressure with his palm.

The doctors hips guided themselves further into the Russians hold as his teeth grit and a strangled moan left him, back arching slightly. "Nicht. . . . Schmerzen. . ."

Heavy wasn't as well versed in German as he would have liked and removed his hand. "You vill have to speak English, Doktor," he frowned, "I do not understand." A deep shudder attacked the Medics legs, the way to express his unfamiliarity with the situation floundering.

"It aches. . ."

Heavy thought for a second. Although he knew how to take away the pain, could he really rush the doctor into sexual relations like this? Before he could back out, and as not to leave Medic struggling, he gently undid the zip of his trousers, gently pulling his crotch free. "Do you trust me?" he asked. The doctor nodded again, legs lightly pushing together to hide how eager he was. He wanted this. . . .And it wasn't just a phrase repeating itself in his mind, he truly did. Something deep in his genetic code and natural instinct to crave human companionship desperately begging for the memories of torture to fade entirely. Admitting defeat, he nodded again.

Nodding, Heavy lowered the man's boxers, freeing him from his cloth prison. He had to admit, the doctor was more endowed than he had given the man credit for; that made him smile. Very gently, he wrapped his hand around the other's cock, starting with a slow rhythm to ease him into the situation. The doctor gave a slight hiss at the touch, hot flesh responding eagerly to the hold and he felt himself get harder as he forced his hips to remain still, to not buck and show his weakness. His eyelids felt heavy and his thighs trembled at the need to bring the man closer, to have more.

"Are you enjoying this Doktor?" The question was genuine as he gripped him harder, squeezing up his shaft to release him at the top, repeating the action over and over to the Medic's satisfaction.

"G-Gott, yes." He hissed in response, growling just slightly at the squeeze, eyes giving in and closing so he could purely focus on how good the mans hands were.

Pleased with his work, Heavy leaned down, moving a hand to massage and fondle Medic's testicles as he replaced hand with tongue on his shaft. He languidly licked up the man, purring as he did so, stopping at his head to lick and suck over it, teasingly.

At that point the Medic let his hips move, letting out a deep and hissed moan and bucking his hips up slightly, shaking as his erection twitched at the unfamiliar contact. Witnessing the eagerness Medic was showing, and voicing, Heavy could only oblige the man. Slowly he dipped his head down and took him in, bobbing his head slowly up and down on him, for now.

This was something new entirely and the Medic could feel his sanity dripping away from him as he bucked up slightly more, teeth grinding as he allowed his strangled moans out more, only for this man, only for Heavy.

Heavy went deeper on him, until soon he had mastered deepthroating Medic entirely. As he came up his shaft, his teeth dragged gently against his flesh, without pain, but the right amount of pressure. Beneath him, his hand squeezed and played with his testicles, kneading them in ways that only bought pleasure to the German. In response, the smaller German could only tangle his hands in the bed sheets beneath him and buck into the hot, accepting mouth, abandoning control and letting his moans free as he became aware of the precum beginning to force its way out his shaft.

Heavy kept on doing as he was with his mouth, but his hand moved towards the tight hole that was Medic's ass. Very gently, he stroked over the man's entrance, pulling away from his cock to make sure the Medic was fine with his finger being inside him.

The doctor glanced up somewhat dizzily, breath escaping him as an even more foreign contact danced around a rather sensitive spot, and he swallowed deeply, managing to control his voice enough to keep back the whimpers dying to escape.

"I von't do anything you to not vant me to doktor." He told him evenly, as much as his own stiff cock raged in protest to what he was saying. As much as he wanted to fuck the man, he was not the kind of person to steal something so precious from someone. But that didn't mean he couldn't encourage an answer from him. "It is up to you," he added as he gently stroked and soothed his entrance. The brunette simply whined at the touch, far too sensitive for his own good. What would be best? He couldn't back out now, and he was out in the middle of the desert, what was the worse that could happen out here, if the RED higher ups found out? They had seen his file, knew of his 'training'. If they didn't care, why should he? With a noise between a whine and a needy growl, he nodded.

The Heavy was not without care. He momentarily slipped from the bed, going to his bedside drawer and pulling out a small tube. Embarrassed, he cleared his throat, simply going back to where he had been sitting and uncapping the tube, pouring a small amount of colourless liquid onto his fingers, before placing them back where they had been. With his other hand smoothly tugging at the hilt of Medic's erection, Heavy gently pushed in an index finger through the walls of muscle, tenderly stroking the inside of Medic's ass.

With the distraction of the warm hand around him and the slickness surrounding him the physician could merely arch and let out a low purr as he felt the intrusion stretching and spreading him. He shivered slightly, the old memories of the consequences of doing such things from both his time in medical school and in the training grounds toying with his brain; but it hadn't hurt like he had expected, and if he was going to hell for it, the Heavy was likely going with him.

"Is good for you doktor?" Heavy slowly pulled out and pushed in, distracting the doctor from his thoughts and finger fucking him at an easy pace for him to get used to, "Vould not like to think first time is bad for you."

"N-neiiin." He withered out breathily in response, leg muscles shuddering slightly at the strange and filling intrusion, unable to help the fact he was tightening around the digit at each inward push.

Heavy couldn't help but smile at the feeling of Medic tightening on him with every thrust of his hand. In a way it was sweet, like he was fighting everything he thought with everything he was now learning. All for him. It was sentimental, in a strange way. To make it up to him, he pushed in harder, fishing out his prostate.

"G-Gott!" The muscles of the doctors legs, ass and abdomen tightened and jolted, feeling blows of something new boil around the base of his spine and erection and he gave a full body shudder with a whine. "Vas. . .?"

"Is just your prostate doktor, although," he smirked, "-vould have expected you to know this da?" He pulled out and rammed his finger against it, repeating the action, "You are a good doktor after all."

The body beneath the Heavy arched moreso and the surgeon gasp at the sensation, torso twisting slightly in an attempt to comprehend the feelings, the sensitivity of that spot and the others ability to press against it so perfectly. The Medic just ended up a mewling, writhing mess, bucking into the air slightly in a feeble attempt to work it out, work everything out.

Happy with what he was seeing, Heavy decided enough was enough for the both of them. Turning to face away from him, he undid his belt and pulled off his trousers, followed by his underwear. Once again he unscrewed the lid to the lubricant and slathered himself in it, gently giving himself a few strokes for good measure. "You are ready Doktor?" his voice was unusually sultry.

The Medic simply glanced up at first, mind wiped from the sudden loss of heat all around and throughout him, before he realized he was being spoke to and he sat up a little and rested on his elbows, realizing what was going on.

"I . . . .I . . . ." His face got to be an even darker shade of red from both the sight and sound of the other. After a moment, he gave a slight nod, deciding that he was going to hell anyway. What did he care, he maimed and destroyed for a living, throw some gay tendencies in there too. Better go to hell and be surrounded by interesting people than in heaven with priests and vicars. Like they would be interesting enough for eternity.

Moving between his legs, Heavy lined up against him. Before he could doubt or talk himself out of what he was about to do, he pushed his head against Medic's already lubed asshole. He was still tight, but soon enough Heavy was pushing into him deeper and deeper. A guttural growl rumbled from his throat and out of his mouth as he leaned over the skinnier man under him, watching his expression; he hoped it felt as good for Medic as it did for him. The doctors eyes fluttered slightly before closing, gritting and baring his teeth with a subtle snarl, using his legs to wrap around the broader mans waist in an attempt to push him a little away, or at least keep him still, but it did not hinder the Russian at all, and soon enough the doctor was entirely and somewhat painfully filled. All the German could do was arch slightly at the thick intrusion and let out a shaky breath of somewhat relief. Somewhere he had expected it to be worse, worse that the punishments he had received before.

Heavy stayed still for a while, allowing the doctor to adjust around him and God did he feel amazing. His tightness, his warmth, his body as a whole, it was all amazing. Then again, Medic was an amazing man, so he expected nothing less. Very slowly, he began to pump in and out of him, keeping his movements as slow and gentle as was physically possible to him, as much as his mind demanded the speed and friction a relentless fuck would bring him. But a relentless fuck would end up breaking the doctor in half no doubt. The Medic was already shivering and letting out pathetic mewls at the gentle movements the other was making, how deeply filled he was, how much his backside ached. Unable to just sit and take it, the German wrapped his arms around the Heavy's shoulders, lightly digging his pristine nails into the soft warm flesh there, letting out a low groan.

The Heavy picked up pace, hoping that his actions would not hurt the Medic as much as he feared they could. Giving a small growl, he thrust in deeper, finding his prostate all over again. If Medic was in pain he would damn well make sure he could enjoy himself along with it. His actions in turn indeed made the Medic yelp, and loudly too, at suddenly something bigger and better than the mans fingers pushing against that wonderful spot, and the physician pulled the other in closer with his legs, moaning weakly at the conflicting sensations of being stretched yet being satisfied.

Heavy purred at that moan, gently biting down on Medic' collarbone, sucking there as his hips began to move faster into him, eventually burying himself up to the hilt, every thrust rubbing the head of his cock against Medic's prostate, sending waves of pleasure through the physician, reflected back through the tensing of his muscles, which directed those waves straight back through Heavy, who could only buck harder at the tease. With each buck and thrust and rub against his prostate, the Germans voice could only raise higher, his legs grip grow tighter and those nails dig in more, each intimate touch and push driving him crazy and making his erection twitch in anticipation for each next thrust from his new lover.

This pleased Heavy to no end, moving his hips faster to make Medic mewl and grip around him tighter, only encouraging his movements. It was a ruthless cycle, but one that paid off for them both. "Do you vant to come, Medic?" He asked, voice almost dark with lust.

"Gott, z-zhats a stupid question to a- ah!" The doctor arched and tightened around him again, shivering and pawing at his back, letting out a whine. "Bitteee, bitte, please."

In response, the taller man wasted no time in jerking the Medic off again, only opposed to the gentle strokes he was using earlier; his hand movements were as harsh as his hip movements into the Medic's ass. The Russian growled as he pumped him hard and fast, movement beginning to become erratic as he felt that familiar heat pooling in his stomach. "Doktor. . ." He growled.

The brunette cried out slightly at his sensitive flesh being handled again with rough, almost crude strokes, but could only tighten and arch and roughly paw at the man in return, entirely submissive to each touch and stroke and bite and kiss, a complete wreck under the intimate contact all over and inside his body. The most he could bring himself to do was give slight kisses and bites in return to the larger mans shoulder, feeling himself leak precum over the others hand as a blissful peak wavered in the near distance.

Heavy feared he would hit his peak too soon, but the reality of the situation was catching up to him. He had long dreamed about doing this to the Medic, but the actuality of it was so much better than the self service he gave to his cock whilst merely imagining what he was now doing. At that thought the heat flared up much harsher inside him, pushing his body to its limits. Everything about his movements increased. His hand pumped the Medic as fast as it could, covering hilt to head as he thrust deep and hard against his prostate.

"M-Medic," he growled, "I'm so . . . close . . . I vant you to . . . come for me." his voice was low and husky, evidence of his fatigue, but also his need for release.

A deep flare of heat spiked through the tip of his erection and the Medic could only buck up more into the warm touch and snarl slightly, biting at the others shoulder as his own body was being forced to its utter edge.

"J-ja-" He managed shakily as he grit his teeth, the spike getting wider within his lower half. "I'm going to-" He couldn't manage the last of his words as the rough touches and thrusts aimed at his sweet spot forced his climax against him, snarling and moaning and arching against his lover.

Medic's orgasm tipped Heavy over the edge as he pulled out and pushed into his now tense, tight ass muscles, forcing him to come violently inside the Medic, his primal howl reverberating off the walls within the room. His hand slowed down pumping him, falling next to his hip to help support his tired bulk as he took tired shaky breaths.

The doctors last few grunts and moans and shaky cries wore out as the last of his seed spilled from him and onto both their abdomens and his lovers hand, and his own hands sluggishly dragged down the Russians broad, finger-indented shoulders and flopped down to his side, breath coming needily and not enough as the brunette closed his eyes in fatigue and leant into his partner. The Heavy pulled his now flaccid, but very satisfied, cock from his partner's ass, flopping down heavily next to him, his own breathing deep. Dismissing the come on Medic's stomach, he pulled the Medic closer to him, nuzzling his hair and neck affectionately. He mumbled sweet words in both Russian and English, his mind clouded from elation and exhaustion.

The doctor could only let the larger of the two do as he wished, he was far too exhausted to react or argue.

"Sorry." The German muttered sleepily, once he managed enough strength to control his mouth and thoughts.

"Mhnm. . . .vhat for?"

Medic yawned and curled closer, physically exhausted. "Being a pain in zhe ass."

"Oh . . . .I zhought zhat vas me." A warm hand lightly cupped his hip and pulled him closer, smearing the sweat and leftovers of their lovemaking slightly, but neither cared. "Are you going to be okay, Doktor?"

With a tired smile and two large hands stroking over his back and hips, the Medic smiled.

"I'm sure I'll make it vizh you by my side."

* * *

I noticed that there are few straight up sex scenes with just normal male Heavy and normal male medic, so here you go. I had help from a friend and this is the first smutty thing I've ever written, so yeah :P Constructive critiques are welcomed.


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